Fck You
by MorgieSan
Summary: A song fic, from Josh's POV. Starts the day after Beckett dumps him. Gratuitous use of the "F" bomb.


Notes: This idea has been eating away at my brain for weeks (ask Hallow777, she knows) and I finally figured out how to tell the story. This is going to be a song fic. A song fic with cuss words. A song fic with a jealous ex. It initially takes place the day after his booty gets kicked to the curb. So when I started this, I really wanted it to be kind of funny. Then as I wrote it, it came out kind of serious. So... I don't know. Love it? Hate it? Let me know, either way.

Disclaimer: I don't own Castle or the song "Fuck You."

* * *

_I see you driving 'round town_

_With the girl I love and I'm like,_

_Fuck you!_

_Ooo, ooo, ooo_

Josh doubled over, hands to knees, to catch his breath. He'd been running the miles of paths inside the park for God only knows how long, trying to forget her. He'd told her was taking another Doctors Without Borders mission, this time in Tanzania. He had tried to explain that it would only be three months, but she sent him packing. She didn't even fight about it. Just opened the door and told him not to come back.

He wiped his brow, and flung the sweat off into the grass. He took one last heaving breath and sprinted off down the path. As he approached the edge of the park he heard the sirens, even through the pounding bass coming off of his ipod. He watched her climb out of the driver's side of her car, and then her sophomoric writer monkey shadow rolled out.

_I guess the change in my pocket_

_Wasn't enough I'm like,_

_Fuck you!_

_And fuck her too!_

Josh growled under his breath, and watched her approach the crime scene tape, with her fancy coffee. Her stupid ass fancy coffee. He brings it to her every single fucking day. Bastard. I could bring her coffee everyday. I might not be as rich as him, but I could still do it for her. Wonder what she likes in it?

Wonder if he knows? He probably does, he brings it to her often enough. She probably told him. Bitch never really gave me a chance, did she? Josh squatted down to stretch his hamstrings (it had nothing to do with staying out of her line of sight). The more he spied the further up his esophagus the bile crept. With a resigned sigh he ran back toward the other side of the park.

_Said, if I was richer, I'd still be with ya_

_Ha, now ain't that some shit? (Ain't that some shit?)_

_Although there's pain in my chest_

_I still wish you the best with a_

_Fuck you!_

_Ooo, ooo, ooo_

Josh grabbed his paper from the stoop as he walked out the door that morning. There on page six were two of his least favorite people. He could've helped her honor her mother. If he'd known. He had money. He was a surgeon for crying out loud, it's not like he even used his money either. He kept a decent _little_ apartment, and the most he spent it on was his bike. He could wallpaper his entire apartment at least three layers deep with all of his money.

"Fuck my life," Josh muttered as he wadded up the paper and dumped it into the nearest recycling bin. He took off on his last morning run through the city, before leaving for Tanzania. He was bound and determined to get his mind off of her. Of him. Of how perfectly fucking perfect they were for each other.

_Yeah I'm sorry, I can't afford a ferrari,_

_But that don't mean I can't get you there._

_I guess he's an X-Box and I'm more Atari,_

_But the way you play your game ain't fair._

At the end of his last night in the city he decided he needed to have a little fun. Blow a little steam. Get shit-faced drunk. Get lucky. He hopped out of the cab at his favorite club, and got in the line. He was about ten from the front when heard the roaring engine. He wasn't the only one that turned to look. She parked the shiny red Ferrari with a move straight out of _The Fast and The Furious_. That girl was all legs, and the dress, or lack thereof, she had on showcased that completely.

It wouldn't have been so bad if the Writer Monkey hadn't been riding shotgun. She tossed the keys to him, and gave him a grateful smile. He mutter something about drowning her sorrows and led her straight to the bouncer. Josh was out of the line and running before the door had even shut good behind them. Fuck. _Fuck. FUCK._

_I pity the fool that falls in love with you_

_(Oh, shit she's a gold digger)_

_Well_

_(Just thought you should know mmmmm)_

_Ooooooh_

_I've got some news for you_

_Yeah go run and tell your little boyfriend!_

Money. That's gotta be the only reason she likes that guy. The _only _reason. He hailed a cab and threw himself into the back as soon as he caught one. He asked the driver to take him to the nearest strip club. He was going to see some fucking tits tonight, no matter what.

Candy. Joy. Cherry. Lola. Cheri. Mandi. Leona. Fiona. Brandy. Sandra. Destiny. Angel. Jade. Scarlett. Bubbles. Kitty. Sugar. Trixie. Whatever this blonde bimbo's name was, she gave one hell of a lap dance. She whispered in his ear that that she got off at two, and if he would stick around she'd show him a good time. He stayed.

_I see you driving 'round town_

_With the girl I love and I'm like,_

_Fuck you!_

_Ooo, ooo, ooo_

He'd gone almost four months without seeing her. Then she rode in on the back of an ambulance with her _partner._ He'd been shot. A clean through and through in his shoulder. Nothing that required his attention. He stood there at the edge of the ambulance bay picking at the last of lunch, and watched.

He sighed as he watched her climb out of the ambulance. He noted that the man was cracking a joke, and she had his hand in a vice like grip. As usual they were together. He idly wondered how long they'd waited after he left to start fucking. He ducked around to the front of the hospital and went back upstairs.

_I guess the change in my pocket_

_Wasn't enough i'm like,_

_Fuck you!_

_And fuck her too!_

He looked through his fifth apartment that day. He was ready to upgrade his life. He was getting the new digs, and it would only be a matter of time before he got the chick to go with it. Or if he was honest with himself, and old girlfriend.

It was the fifteenth apartment he'd visited before he finally found the one. A nice building, a nice neighborhood, and a great school right around the corner. Private. He was sure she'd like that. She liked money.

_I said, if I was richer, I'd still be with ya_

_Ha, now ain't that some shit? (Ain't that some shit?)_

_Although there's pain in my chest_

_I still wish you the best with a_

_Fuck you!_

_Ooo, ooo, ooo_

Every time he saw her in passing it hurt less. It still hurt, but it hurt less. Sometimes he would pass one of her crime scenes on a run, other times he saw her in the paper, and still others he would see her just walking. Sometimes she was alone. Sometimes she was with her boys. Sometimes with that creepy M.E. girlfriend of hers. Sometimes with him.

His heart ached, though, when saw them holding hands. He dropped his spoon into his bowl. His date turned and saw what he was looking at. She threw her water at him and left. Josh continued to watch the pair across the street. She stopped and laughed at him. He reached up and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and asked her something. Josh could barely see her nod, but when the Writer Monkey leaned in and kissed her... when the Writer Monkey kissed his Kate his heartache increased tenfold.

_Now I know, that I had to borrow,_

_Beg and steal and lie and cheat._

_Trying to keep ya, trying to please ya._

_'Cause being in love with you ass ain't cheap._

He thought about the times he had bartered away shifts for time with her. He'd tried so very hard to steal her heart. Then there were the times he lied to himself about her feelings. He'd entertained one thought, for one very brief moment that she had cheated. But she wouldn't do that. He knew that deep down inside.

He thought about all the little things he'd done to try and woo her. Flowers. Candy. Food. Nothing was good enough for her. Maybe the Writer Monkey had it right. He should've tried coffee. She likes that fancy stuff, and he could do that.

_I pity the fool that falls in love with you_

_(Oh shit she's a gold digger)_

_Well_

_(Just thought you should know nmmmmmm)_

_Ooooooh_

_I've got some news for you_

_Ha ha, oh I really hate your ass right now_

He choked on his muffin when he flipped open the paper that morning, ten long months after their break up. There she was. Literally, in black and white. A write up from the book launch of his latest Nikki Heat novel. The picture though. The picture is what did him in. The picture of his Kate and her Writer Monkey. Surrounded by a handful of his rabid bimbos. Problem was, Writer Monkey was looking at his Kate. She was looking at him. He'd never seen her smile like that.

Then he read the caption. They were dating. Officially dating. His heartache was back, but this time it was tinged with something else. He couldn't help but hate her just a little. According to the paper the two had only been dating two months. He also couldn't help wondering once again how long they'd waited after was gone to start fucking. Because, lets face it, you don't need one to have the other.

_I see you driving 'round town_

_With the girl i love and i'm like,_

_Fuck you!_

_Ooo, ooo, ooo_

_I guess the change in my pocket_

_Wasn't enough i'm like,_

_Fuck you!_

_And fuck her too!_

He watched them climb out of some limousine on TV one night. Another benefit for that stupid scholarship. Writer Monkey stood there in his stupid looking little penguin suit, and his Kate was standing there looking resplendent in blue satin and taffeta. He took another swig of his beer and changed the channel.

There they were again. Different angle. This time he was helping her climb out of the car. He choked on his beer and dropped the bottle. She had a habit of making him choke.

_I said, if I was richer, I'd still be with ya_

_Ha, now ain't that some shit? (Ain't that some shit?)_

_Although there's pain in my chest_

_I still wish you the best with a_

_Fuck you!_

_Ooo, ooo, ooo_

He edged up closer to his TV, as if that would make it any clearer. There in the middle of his TV was her left hand, and on that left hand was a rock. Just like that it was gone. They moved on to the next big story of the night.

He grabbed his remote and rewound the live feed back to her hand and paused it. Thank God for DVRs. He studied the ring, and tried to figure out why she had said yes. Writer Monkey went small. He would've gotten her a bigger ring. A better ring. Girls like fancy rings. At least that is what Mitzi, or Kaylee, or Erica, or Naomi had said. What was his girlfriend's name again?

_Now baby, baby, baby, why d'you wanna wanna hurt me so bad?_

_(So bad, so bad, so bad.)_

_I tried to tell my mamma but she told me_

_"this is one for your dad"_

_(Your Dad) Yes she did (Your Dad, Your Dad)_

_Uh! Whhhy? Uh! Whhhy? Uh!_

_Whhhy lady? Oh! I love you oh!_

_I still love you. Oooh!_

It was the photo from the wedding that was the last straw. He broke his lease, and took a full time position with Doctors Without Borders. He'd lost her for good. He didn't know why she'd picked the Writer Monkey, but she did. She made her choice, and he had to get away.

When he told his mother he was going to be leaving the country again she cried. When he told her it was for good she yelled. He told her he had to get away from the heartbreak, and she sent him to see his father. The man who invented heartbreak. He went. He left the flowers on the ground in front of the perfectly manicured grave. In the perfectly manicured cemetery. With all of the other perfectly manicured war heroes.

_I see you driving 'round town_

_With the girl I love and I'm like,_

_Fuck you!_

_Ooo, ooo, ooo_

_I guess the change in my pocket_

_Wasn't enough i'm like,_

_Fuck you!_

_And fuck her too!_

He'd been in Haiti again, when he found out. One of the new doctors was a total fangirl. She gushed about it at dinner one night. How she'd delivered the beautiful little baby girl for them. How she'd been there to see Writer Monkey's perfect little Ginger meet her new sister. How she'd seen the perfectly little family off.

He was going to be sick. He abruptly left the table and made a break for the nearest clearing. One of the nurses followed him. She talked him down, and they sat under the stars talking that night. Lizzy made him forget all about Kate. Lizzy was funny. She was cute. She was driven. She was almost a female him, but not quite. They were just different enough. He thought they would be perfect for each other.

_I said, if I was richer, I'd still be with ya_

_Ha, now ain't that some shit? (ain't that some shit?)_

_Although there's pain in my chest_

_I still wish you the best with a_

_Fuck you!_

_Ooo, ooo, ooo_

When he finally moved back to New York, it was with Lizzy on his arm. He was finally ready to settle down, and so was she. They found a great little place, near a great little school. Perfect timing too, because they were going to have a baby soon.

He was sitting on a bench with Lizzy one morning when the car pulled up. A pretty forgettable SUV. Black. Four tires. Nothing memorable. Except for the people in it. He saw Writer Monkey get out, and then go around to the passenger side door. He pulled it open and helped Kate out. Even from this far away he could tell. She was heavily pregnant. He idly wondered which number it was, and received his answer when Writer Monkey slung the little pixie and the backpack up onto his hip. Number two. He was glad she was happy. He was very glad that he was happy, and so was Lizzy. He kissed the top of her head and mumbled, "I love my life."


End file.
